Swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe. It’s happening. It’s really Fucking happening. I am online dating. Or at least trying. God, it’s like wading into a faceless sea of terrifying dicks again. I used to love doing this. I was so good at this five years ago. I guess the slow grind of pseudo-relationships had really made me feel complacent about finding someone with whom I could actually have a future.
This is terrifying. I talk to my [few remaining single] friends, and, oof, they are not reassuring me. They regale me with stories of loneliness and peril, bad sex and bad men. I used to love hearing these stories from the comfort of a sexually active, consistently affectionate and very adequate relationship. But now. I’m one of them. Out here to have my time, money and emotions wasted in one of the scariest ways possible. Online dating.
In the wake of a break up, I’ve found that I’m drawn to trite aphorisms more so now than ever before. I feel incredibly cheesy admitting this, but, hey, it’s a coping mechanism. As I was swiping through Tinder, I came across a profile that said, “The most difficult decision you’ll ever make is deciding whether to stay and make it work or leaving and doing something new.” Ouch. Jesus. I really didn’t come here to be filled with regret. I didn’t come here so I could sit and ponder whether or not giving up on my last relationship was the right decision or should I have tried harder.
I made the right decision. Even as I sit here and miss the little things about him. Waking up next to him. Listening to music as we drove around together. Wandering around Target. I tell myself that all those things can be replaced by someone who treats me better in the big picture. But as I listen to my friends’ horror stories, I wonder: did I give up something that was good enough? Should I have been content with that status quo?
Or should I want more in life.
I want more.